


What If

by hoedogg



Series: Revolutionary Texts [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, M/M, real quick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9217577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoedogg/pseuds/hoedogg
Summary: I realized how much Thomas and Alexander hate each other in this au so i thought what would happen if i made them love each other?(can be read on its own)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> no one wanted this but i did so here it is. thisll have a second chapter i just got tired and said fuck it itll be two chapters  
> enjoy

Okay, this will be easy. All Alexander has to do is go up to Thomas, and ask him if he wants to come over to the apartment so their cats can meet each other, because he wants Philip to get used to being around other cats before he gets old and angry. Totally not because he wants to spend more time around Thomas, or see how he is around cats, or to see if he comes with those thick, rectangular glasses he once wore to work (apparently it was because he dropped his contacts in his sink). Definitely not. If he ends up being rejected, and thus looking stupid, then he could just turn to Plan B: come out with a smart remark,  make his way back here to the bathroom, maybe wallow a bit, start a Twitter war with Thomas after work, and spend the rest of the night eating ice cream and watching _The Real O’neals_ until he falls asleep. Perfect plan. Full proof. All he has to do is get the _fuck_ out of this damn bathroom and ask him. So, he pulls up his metaphorical big boy pants, takes a deep breath, and walks out, ignoring the voice in his head yelling for him to just get back to work and forget about this whole thing (it sounds oddly like the Wicked Witch of the West from the _Wizard of Oz_ movie).

Despite Thomas’ shitty opinions and sense of style, Alexander always feels flustered around him, which he successfully masks under a thick layer of sarcasm and insults. Hopefully his inability to act normally around the person he likes doesn’t get in the way of not having to turn to Plan B. Now that he thinks about it, maybe he should call it something else, because saying that reminds him of the reggaeton duo, Plan B. It’s actually kind of sad that they chose to call themselves that, because every time someone searches up their name, all they’ll get is birth control. It’s not their fault. He’s pretty sure they started making music before the birth control came out. It just turns out people have unprotected sex more than they listen to their music. Unless, of course, they have unprotected sex while listening to their music, but that’s a whole other kind of irony.

Alexander’s mind tends to wander when he’s nervous.

Seems like that nervousness has gotten the best of him, because he’s already standing next to Thomas, and now he’s staring at Alexander with a bored expression, and Alexander forgot how he was going to ask his stupid-ass question. Of course he did. He’s so _stupid_ , Thomas wouldn’t say yes to him if someone paid him. God, this was such a bad idea, he’s so stupid, he should just run away and never come back, he’ll live as a dirty hobo in Chicago, and—

“Top of the mornin’ to ya’!”

“What?” Thomas says flatly, punctuated by the raise of an eyebrow.

“You heard me,” WHAT THE FUCK IS HE SAYING RIGHT NOW, HOLY FUCK. “That’s how the British say it.”

Alexander’s only wish right now is for God to smite him down in the fastest way He can.

“Isn’t it _Irish_ people who say that?” Thomas asks.

What’s the point of waiting for God to do it? Alexander could just kill himself just as quickly.

“Oh, is it? Ah, well, who cares, we won the war.” Alexander attempts to wave a hand nonchalantly, but only manages to whack himself with the register. Good thing it’s been slow today. He cringes in pain and clutches his hand close to his chest before hissing out a quiet curse.

“I haven’t seen you act a fool like this in a while,” Thomas comments. He leans in closer to Alexander and says in a low voice, “Almost makes me think you’re in love with me.”

Alexander’s blood isn’t quite sure if it wants to go to his face or pants, but either way, he hopes it’s not evident.

He huffs out a breath. “You wish.”

“Not really.”

Okay, admittedly, that hurt. But, he keeps his face straight nonetheless. “Look, I know you got a cat, like, a month ago, and it hurts me more to ask you than it does for you to hear it, but could you come over some time so they can meet? Philip hasn’t met any other cats and I don’t want him to grow up to be one of those fat, angry cats with no friends and—”

He stops talking when Thomas holds up his hand. “Has your cat had his surgery yet?”

“Yes?”

“Was that a question or an answer?”

“An answer.”

He lowers his hand again. “Good, we’ll be there tonight about two hours after work.”

“Wait,” Alexander says, “you mean tonight?”

“Obviously.” Thomas says, using the hand he just had up to scratch at a spot on his head. Alexander gets distracted with staring at his hair, and wondering if those thousands of curls would be soft if he were to reach and touch them right now. Thomas clears his throat, and Alexander forces his eyes back to Thomas’, which are equally as distracting as his hair. But, more than that, sweet Mother of God, Thomas is smirking at him. “Does that work for you?”

“It’s fine but if you get there any later I’m not letting you in.” If looks could kill, Alexander would be melting right now. More than he already is, at least.

“Good,” Thomas says as a customer walks in. “Now, leave me alone. I actually have work to do.”

If Alexander is smiling like a maniac when he turns away, well, then that’s personal.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy three kings day!!  
> im actually very proud of this so hopefully it's good  
> it's also six pages so it BETTER be good
> 
> i also realized that if you squint, alexander has ADD

Alexander and Thomas both close shop together at seven-thirty in the afternoon everyday, but today they were a little late because a young lady was with her child, and the kid had a tantrum and ended up throwing around coffee and cakes. He ran around screaming his little head off and crying, face red as a tomato, before finally stopping after a good smack on the rear from his mother. Kids need a good spanking from time to time. The woman apologized about a hundred times before offering to pay them extra for the mess her kid made. Both Alexander and Thomas declined, and Thomas even offered her a free muffin to calm her down, Alexander supposed. She looked overly stressed. She smiled at the both of them, apologized again, took the muffin, and walked out hand-in-hand with her still crying child. That happened at about seven-twenty. Cleaning took them something like an hour before the place was spotless.

As they were locking the front doors, Alexander asks, “You still comin’ over?”

“Do you not want me to?” Thomas says, once again, raising an eyebrow.

You don’t even know how much I want you to, Alexander says, but it comes out as, “Good question, but I’m just making sure. Can’t have trash flaking out on me.”

Thomas rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’m still coming over, but I was thinking, since you walk to your place, how about I give you a ride?” _FuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckYES_. “I’ll stop at my place to pick up the cat and we can go from there.”

Though Alexander isn’t sure he could control himself in a small, confined space with Thomas for any period of time, he still shakes his head. Not too vigorously, though, no. He has to play it cool (he usually thinks of that word with a little trademark at the corner).

Thomas nods his head before leading Alexander to his car. He doesn’t have any money for a car, so he doesn’t know what model it is. Then again, this _is_ New York. People usually call cabs, anyway. It’s so much more convenient in the daily traffic. He gets in the passenger seat, and takes in the fact that he’s in Thomas Jefferson’s car. Holy crap.

Well, now that they’re here and Thomas is pulling out of the parking area, what do they do now? What should he talk about? What should he say? Usually when he needs something to talk about, he talks about the first thing to come to mind. Maybe that’ll work, but at the same time, it could start up another one of their heated debates, and that could lead to his ass meeting the curb, and needing to walk home on his own. But, then what should he talk about? He should probably not talk about anything, but staying silent and still for too long makes him feel like he’s going crazy. Last time he forced himself to stay quiet, bobbing his leg up and down the way he is now just wasn’t enough, and he thought for sure he’d end up screaming and kicking like that kid at the shop.

“Hamilton, what in the name of God are you talking about?” Thomas asks, breaking Alexander out of his thoughts. He hadn’t even realized he was hastily muttering his thoughts out loud. He should really stop doing that, it’s becoming a habit.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” Alexander says. He doesn’t meet Thomas’ eye, just stares out the window, focusing on the passing lights.

“So,” Thomas starts, clearing his throat, “what breed is your cat?”

“He’s a tabby.” Alexander is starting to think this is a bad idea, but hey, too late to turn back now. “Yours?”

“She’s a sphynx. You said his name was Philip?” Thomas says. He keeps his eyes trained on the road ahead of him. Another reason Alexander doesn’t have a car is because he could never focus on just the road for so long. His mind would wander to other things, and that would lead to some freak accident on 95, which would lead to going to the hospital, and doctors freak him out.

“Yeah, he is. He’s about six months old now.” This is going well. No fighting. No insults. Strangely, though, it doesn’t feel right.

Thomas hums. “Mine is a little younger, about four.”

“What’s her name?” Alexander asks.

Thomas hesitates for a second before answering, “Te— Tequila.”

Alexander busts out laughing. “What the fuck? You named a cat after alcohol?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, I did. It’s better than Philip.”

“Philip is a real name, Jefferson.” Alexander shoves his head lightly. In turn, Thomas smacks him upside the head.

“Southern fuck.” Alexander says. Hopefully it came out playful.

“I’m proud of my roots.” Thomas says before doing something Alexander did _not_ expect. He pulled his hair. And oh, no. Alexander liked it. He had to hold back a noise that would have seriously ended his life, and slapped away Thomas’ arm.

There’s a voice in his head, loud and clear, screaming, KEEP YOUR DICK IN YOUR PANTS, HAMILTON, THIS IS A RED ALERT. This one doesn’t sound like the Wicked Witch of the West. It sounds oddly like… his roommate John? He has no idea why.

Thomas takes a turn into an apartment complex before stopping in front of one of its small buildings.

“Alright, stay here, this’ll only take a minute. I’ll tell James when I’ll be back, grab my amazingly named cat, then we can go, okay?” Thomas says, turning off the engine of his car.

“Yeah, just hurry up.” Hamilton says, faking his annoyed sigh.

“Just wait here, drama queen.” Thomas says before leaving the car. Alexander uses his time wisely. And by wisely, he means freaking the fuck out in the passenger seat of the car belonging to the person he pretends to hate. He lets out a stupid noise and mutters to himself to calm down and _stop thinking about those hands_. He’s so screwed. He should have never done this. He should leave. That whole running away to become a Chicago hobo is sounding very tempting right now. He’s just about ready to leave when Thomas comes back in with a small plastic pet carrier. He opens the door to the driver’s seat and places the carrier in Alexander’s lap.

“If you hurt her, I’ll kill you and feed you to her.” Thomas says. Alexander shoots him a glare before looking at the kitten inside.

Tequila tries to smell him through the metal squares of the carrier, and when he takes a look he realizes that she has no hair.

“Oh, my God, did you shave your cat?” He yells. Thomas jumps and nearly hits another car before gaining control of the wheel.

“Fuck, what is wrong with you?” Thomas yells back. Alexander clutches the carrier close to his chest.

“How could you shave this poor cat?”

“Motherfucker, she’s a sphynx! They don’t have hair!” Thomas glances at Alexander angrily before looking back at the road.

“Oh— oh.” Alexander says dumbly. He looks at Tequila through the door of the carrier. She meows at him, taunting him.

Thomas shakes his head. “Just give me the CD in the glove box, will you?”

Alexander does as he’s told, mumbling about how he’s already got the cat in his lap, he shouldn’t have to get shit. He hands the disc to Thomas, who holds up his hand. Alexander rolls his eyes and pops it in the radio. When Thomas takes a turn Alexander asks, “Wait, do you know the way?”

“You have no idea how many times Angelica has asked me to drive your sorry ass home after you get blackout drunk.” Thomas says.

“Why you?”

“I’m the only one who can hold your full bodyweight.” Thomas smirks, as if he’s thinking of something. Alexander doesn’t even want to ask further. “You know, I didn’t ask you to get the CD so it can stay warm in the radio. Play it.”

When he does, the song that plays is opened with a drum and a man groaning. Alexander’s never heard it before.

“What is this?” Alexander asks.

“Patrick Stump. You heard him before?”

“No, sounds shitty.”

“What the fuck? How?” Thomas looks at Alexander with a shocked expression.

“It just does, man, I don’t know.” Alexander shrugs.

“Jesus, you don’t know what real music is.” Thomas look ahead of him.

“The music I listen to is a lot better than this garbage.” Alexander shoots back.

“I will throw you out of this car right now.” The song ends with some weird noise Alexander can’t identify.

“Hey, it’s an opinion, not a dick. Don’t take it so hard.”

“Never say that in my presence again.” Thomas says with his nose all scrunched up. This feels more natural. This is good. Smart remarks, going back and forth, that’s how they did things.

They arrive at Alexander’s apartment not long after that. They both exit the car, and Thomas walks over to Alexander and the carrier out of his hand by the handle. Oh, look at that, their hands brushed, and Alexander is dead. Maybe his ghost won’t have to deal with Thomas’ annoying, beautiful face. If only.

He takes his keys out of the front pocket of his jeans and unlocks the door.

“ _Bienvenidos a La Casa Hamilton_.” Alexander says, holding open the door once he’s inside. Philip meows from another room, and comes speeding to Alexander, purring and rubbing against his leg. He goes to Thomas, who smiles down at him with more warmth than Alexander’s ever seen in the guy, and smells his shoe and pant leg.

“Hey,” Thomas says quietly, reaching down to hold out his hand for Philip to smell. Alexander watches them, smiling.

“Yo, Phil,” Alexander says, bending over to pick him up. He brings him close to the carrier, where Tequila is already attempting to smell him. “Got a friend for you. Let’s go to the couch and see how they are together.”

Thomas nods and follows him into the open space he and John had adopted as the living room. He and Thomas sit on the couch, middle cushion separating them. Thomas places the carrier and unlocks the door. The two of them— well, _three_ including Philip— watch Tequila slowly make her way out of the carrier. She sniffs the floor around her. It takes her about a minute to actually get her full body out of the carrier, and when she does, she immediately meows at Thomas, who chuckles and picks her up. Alexander brings Philip closer to her so they can get to know each other. Both he and Thomas watch silently as the cats sniff each others faces.

“Um,” Alexander breaks the silence and looks up at Thomas, “I think it’s going well?”

“Yeah,” Thomas agrees, nodding his head. “Maybe we should put them down.”

They both set down the cats, and continued to silently watch them curiously smell each other. The silence is getting awkward, and Alexander finds himself, yet again, looking for something to talk about. He begins bobbing his leg furiously. This kind of silence makes him more nervous than it should, and amongst the nervousness, anger begins to find its place in his chest. He has no reason to be angry. The plan worked. Ask him if he wants to come, and he came. But that’s just the big picture. There were so many little things within the plan that could go wrong, like now, for instance. He didn’t think about what they would talk about or what they would do when they get here. Honestly, he didn’t even think he’d _get_ this far. Another thing his stupid self didn’t think about: What if Thomas isn’t even into guys— more specifically _him_. He’s so stupid.

He needs to say something, anything, anything at all. First thing that comes to mind. Just say it. But they only thing he can think of is whether or not Thomas likes him back. He needs something else. Second thing that comes to mind: How could I be so stupid? Okay, not that. Third thing… he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. Shit, okay, _any_ thing will do at this point.

“Are you and James dating?” Being a hobo in Chicago doesn’t sound all that bad, does it?

“What, why?” Thomas asks. Alexander can’t tell if he’s blushing or not. He looks like he might be. That could mean they are. Shit.

“I don’t know, you guys kind of act like it, so I was curious.” Alexander shrugs. That was good. Reveal nothing.

Thomas doesn’t answer. He just kind of looks off into space. Alexander pokes his arm to get his attention. “Hello? Earth to Jefferson?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“What?”

“It’s none of your business,” Jefferson snaps. “Who I’m dating has nothing to do with you.”

Well, that’s not much of an answer, now is it? No it’s not.

“Come on, man.” Alexander may or may not have whined. “If not him then who? Is it Angelica? She told me about you lusting over her a couple weeks ago. Come on, tell me.”

“Didn’t I just fuckin’ tell you that’s none of your business?” Thomas raises his voice slightly.

“I’m just asking, Jesus!” Alexander squares his shoulders. He needs to know. “I mean, what are you even hiding? I doubt it’s that bad.”

“Why are you so damn annoying?” The cats have begun playing separately with Philip’s toys.

“Why are you so ugly?” A blatant lie. Thomas is probably the most handsome person he’s ever seen, but he had to think quick.

“Why are you so hot?” Thomas says rapidly.

“Why are you so—” Alexander starts, “Wait, hold the fuck up, what did you just say?”

“So apparently you’re not just dumb, you’re deaf. Great.” Thomas isn’t looking at him, instead staring at the black TV screen.

“ _Hot_ ? You think I’m hot. _Me_?” Alexander says disbelievingly. His heart is racing nearly as fast as his mind. Thomas just rests his chin on his palm and turns his head away. Alexander furrows his eyebrows irritably and grabs Thomas by the shoulder, forcing the taller man to look at him. “No, you don’t get to just say that, and then be all emo, and ignore me. You like me.”

Thomas sighs angrily, releasing a quick puff of air from his nostrils. “Yes, okay? Is that what you wanted?”

“And?”

“What do you mean _and_?” Thomas says nastily. He’s weirdly attractive like this.

“Well, I’m sitting right here, and you’re there getting all up in your feelings instead of manning up and, I dunno, kissing me? Is that hint enough?” Thomas looks surprised by this. Alexander rolls his eyes when Thomas stays staring at him as if he had two heads, and leans his upper body closer to his. He closes his eyes and connects their lips. It takes Thomas a second to react, but soon he’s giving back with vigor, reaching up and holding his head still by placing a hand on the side of Alexander’s neck. Alexander arches his back a bit, and they continue kissing for a little bit with Thomas leading before he slips his tongue into Alexander’s mouth. Alexander breaks the kiss for a second to say, “By the way, feel free to pull my hair all you’d like.”

And pull he did. This time Alexander didn’t hold back the groan that came out of him.

At some point during the kiss, Alexander ended up halfway laying on top of Thomas. He broke off the kiss again to breathe, but air was for cowards, so Alexander continued to bite and suck at a part of Thomas’ neck. Thomas laughs weakly, breathing deeply. He pushes Alexander lightly by the shoulders.

“Slow down there, tiger.”

Alexander smiles. “You’re no fun.”

“We have plenty of time for that,” Thomas says.

Alexander hums, and scoots low enough to rest his head on Thomas’ chest. They both watch the cats bite and kick at the furry little balls Alexander bought for Philip.

“How long have you liked me?” Alexander asks, closing his eyes as he feels Thomas run his hand up and down Alexander’s back.

“Can’t remember. I know it’s been a while though. And you?”

“You remember that time we argued, and you told me to suck your dick? That was pretty much it for me.” His head bobs up and down in tune with Thomas’ chest as he laughs.

“Only you would.”

“Hmm, it’s getting late.”

“Mhmm.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Alexander mumbles.

“I don’t want to go.” He answers.

“John wouldn’t mind if you stayed,” Alexander says, pushing himself up to look down at Thomas. “You could sleep in my room. We could leave the cats to sleep in a pile of my clothes, and you could borrow some clothes from John, and in the morning—”

“Woah, now. I don’t know about you, but I think we should take things slow.” Thomas says.

“This is me taking things slow.” Alexander cocks his head to the side.

“ _Slower_.” Thomas insists.

“Ugh, fine, grandpa.” Alexander definitely does _not_ sulk.

“I’ll let that slide,” Thomas warns. “Now, get up. You’re heavy.”

“Rude.” Alexander says, but rolls off the couch, almost landing on Philip.

Thomas stands up and crouches down to scoop up Tequila, who protests wrapping her front paws around his arm and biting him. They leave once Tequila is in her carrier, and before Thomas can exit the door, Alexander calls his attention. He gives him a little peck on the lips before whispering to him, “You’re still ugly.”

Thomas just chuckles and answers, “You’re still hot,” before turning and leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't painfully obvious, I've never kissed anyone in my life and this is the closest thing to smut I've ever written
> 
> if yall wanna see more shit like this or want me to make a separate series for this ship, hmu in the comments

**Author's Note:**

> wowza so that happened huh?


End file.
